


A Fullness in the Heart

by TeaAndPaint



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Affection, Character Study, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mammon is a good bro, Platonic Relationships, Sleeping Together, Spoilers for lessons 4-6, can be seen as platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaAndPaint/pseuds/TeaAndPaint
Summary: Asmo was right when he said handing the human over to Beel would be the same as telling him to eat them. Beel was right when he said he could not promise the human wouldn't be eaten if put in his care.-"I was and am still scared of you losing control," the human grits out. "I don't think being eaten alive is a pleasant death. But I don't want to live in constant fear of you, either."-Beelzebub, the human exchange student, and the evolution of their relationship.Alternatively, five events where he's Beelzebub, one where he's Beel, and then some.
Relationships: Beelzebub & Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character & Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 93





	A Fullness in the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> To those who read my works for other fandoms, I'm really sorry! I haven't given up on any of my works. I have drafts in the making and they're not quite to my satisfaction yet. I'm still working on them >:)  
> —
> 
> Anyway, this has spoilers for lessons 4-6. Please read carefully :)

1.

" _We might as well ask him to_ **_eat_ ** _this human."_

_"Mm, yeah. I can't promise I wouldn't."_

The human is, for one reason or another, very wary with him after this exchange. Even at the dinner table, the human doesn't relax.

The gaze directed to his general direction has been there for the last five minutes. He's already on his fifth plate of meat. Or he's on his sixth plate. It's harder to keep track of what he eats when he's capable of eating dinnerware, the table, the pillars of the house, and even Diavolo's castle. The constant gnawing in his stomach only makes tracking what he eats even more difficult. 

The human hasn't even gone through half of their food. 

"If you don't want it, I'll eat it." he offers, around his final mouthful of spiced scorpions and something-the-human-would-probably-prefer-not-to-know. There's a whole roast havoc devil with fried bats that's been set near him; homemade instead of from Hell's Kitchen, but still something he'd eat. He pulls it toward him as the human watches with a paling face and widened eyes. They can barely glance over the top. The finished scorpion dish makes another empty plate for the stack beside him, not that it's going to stop growing anytime soon. Each plate of food doesn't even begin to satiate his hunger. And—is that some human world food on the human's plate? It's been a while since he's eaten human world food.

A shaky breath escapes from the human. He can smell their unease. 

"Oh, sorry," they say, turning the sticks in their hand. Those sticks—chopsticks, he hasn't seen those in a while—"I'm still eating. I'll let you know if I can't finish."

He's too interested in the roasted havoc devil to care; the bones crumble like potato crisps in his mouth. It's much easier to eat the entire roast without fussing around bones. If he was picky about bones, he'd never be full. From what he can tell, considering his eating speed, the roast has been seasoned well enough to leave a slight burn in his mouth. Same with the fried bats, though they could have been made crunchier. Maybe then he would have slowed down.

The dish doesn't lessen the ache in his stomach, even as he finishes that and starts on another. The human has that food they're eating with chopsticks, a small plate of Devildom food, and a bowl of soup of some kind. In the span of Beel finishing three large plates, they've only just set aside the chopsticks in favor of a knife and fork.

…the human probably doesn't realize that he can sense them scooting away from his direction in their seat. The thought of him being frightening to something Belphie used to love dampens his appetite. 

But trying not to care only makes him more hungry. He looks away, away from their slow, tentative poking of a tiny serving of seared devil salmon.

* * *

2.

It's the human's turn to cook. Mammon's complained about their nervous mutterings for the third time. 

"What're you so afraid of? It's not like THE Mammon is gonna leave ya alone!"

They shake their head; their hair is even messier. It's not much helped when they try to nudge those lone stands away with their shoulder. The bowl of meat, which is currently being soaked in some sort of human dressing, smells slightly sweet and tangy. The human stands nearby, using their hands to properly coat the meat strips and flip them. Makes him wonder if the human tastes as good as the sauce that's diffusing its scent in the air. 

"No, it's not that, Mammon, I"—they both see him approach at the same time and freeze; the human more so than Mammon. Mammon steps toward Beel, arms in the air. The human's eyes don't leave his form and they twitch. Mammon quickly glances at them before settling his eyes on Beel.

"Argh! Beel, no! You can't! The human can only do so much at a time—"

His stomach growls. 

"I'm hungry," he mumbles to his older brother as he approaches. Mammon gets that crease near his eyes, one that he only makes when he's stressed out or reminiscing. But those tanned, lanky arms of his don't stop their struggle to hold him back. Mammon's putting more effort in than he usually does. A bit odd for Mammon, but Beel can't completely understand his motivations anyway—he's not the Avatar of Greed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, Beel. Tell ya what, get some of the instant ramen I have—"

"Okay." While Mammon opens the cupboard to his stash, Beel takes an armful and leans against the counter. As he takes a bite through the first cup, he watches the human. 

The human maneuvers away from him while clutching the bowl of meat. Once the bowl is safely placed beside them, they furiously scrub at their hands with soap and water.

Why? 

"Hey. Human." What was their name again? It's right at the tip of his tongue. "What are you washing your hands for?"

Mammon cuts in, eyes steady and body covering the human's back. Mammon's voice doesn't hitch when he says their name, correctly and carefully. Just weeks ago, he was complaining about the human. For once, Mammon doesn't seem to care that Beel's eating through his stash, uncooked and packaging included. His focus is on covering for the human and on making sure Beel and the human don't conflict with each other. Mammon reaches and grabs more ramen cups from his stash, eyes despairing as they disappear into Beel's stomach. 

The sound of running water halts and a hand reaches from behind Mammon, shaky. And Mammon passes them some cups of instant ramen, though not without complaints. Beel waits for the demand for compensation, but it never comes. 

"It's not safe for humans to handle raw meat without washing their hands thoroughly before and after." the human murmurs. Now that their hands are clean, they've found a set of tongs and hold it in the crook of their elbow. Turning towards Mammon, they seem to ask something, because Mammon points to the place where they keep their larger pots. Noting the standstill between Beel and Mammon, their steps are a bit more confident as they go to get what they need.

A pot hollowly clanks its way into Beel's attention as he nods while mulling their words in his head. So humans are more susceptible to the things that could never be overly harmful to Beel, huh.

The human tears apart the ramen packaging with their teeth while placing the meat to be grilled. The sizzling starts softly, then demands his attention as the sizzling gives way to the scent of cooked meat. Both he and Mammon pause—the meat just smells really good, especially when combined with the human's scent, and he wants some. The human holds the tongs aloft, like a warding staff, as if it'll hold them off. They frown at the growl of Beel's stomach, he puts a hand to it, though that habit does nothing to stave off the incoming hunger pangs.

"Mammon," his brother's name rings in the kitchen, and Beel can't help but wonder, _how much longer can I hold myself together?_ It's not only hunger eating him alive; the familiarity that resonates from every sound of Mammon's name makes him ache for it. Mammon seems to be affected similarly, responding quickly with a "What," as if he wants more, too. Beel wants it; wants to hear his name called, wants that ache above his stomach to be soothed. 

A tentative smile stretches across the human's face, like those grinning Little D cookies from the cafe Asmo frequents. Beel pauses his chewing, pondering this ache in his being. The ache is still there even with his hand on his stomach and the ramen starting to settle. It's higher up, at his heart. 

"Mammon, a thousand Grimm says you'll help me out." Mammon's agreement cracks the air, though he nags about how that "ain't enough to cover my services" and the human chuckles. It's a pretty thing that Beel wouldn't mind hearing again. It reminds him of better days, when he flew home on feathery wings to the sight of _her_ special recipes on the dinner table. She would weep now, seeing that he can't enjoy food anymore. Her cooking was his favorite and eating the fruits of her labor after a day of divine work was all he could have asked for. He misses her cooking, and misses being able to savor food without having to make sure he won't go on a rampage from hunger. 

The pot is set to boil and Mammon eagerly dumps in the noodles. Beel is about to take a bite from the instant noodles in his hand when there's a tug at his bracelets.

"Beelzebub," the human says, and their voice curves his name into something so soft and sweet, it reminds him of cotton candy and clouds and _her_ hair, tied up into a little fluffy bun as she cooked—

"You probably can't wait until dinner, can you? Let me cook that for you. It'll taste better."

He nods, sliding down to make himself smaller and less imposing, with gum from Mammon's pockets to keep himself occupied. From the floor, unintrusive of his brother and the human, he sees Mammon fighting back grins as he dangles packets of seasoning above the human. The human whacks him lightly on the arm and he doesn't flinch at all. The human sticks their tongue out at Mammon and Mammon responds in kind. 

If this is how it's going to be, with Mammon being like how he used to be in the kitchen with the human, then…then Beel won't mind at all. 

It's not until Mammon presents him with the entire pot that he realizes he was able to ignore the twinging in his stomach.

The human peeks around Mammon, who has his hands on his hip. Beel makes a questioning noise and is even more confused when the human peeks around one of Mammon's arms. 

"That'll be 2000 Gri"—

"Eat well, Beelzebub?" 

Well, it sounds more like a question than a statement, but he'll take it since it was the human who said so. 

As Mammon jokingly tries to grab a slightly-less tense human by the waist, Beel eats and thinks, yes, hearing his name again was nice. This time, he makes more of an effort to eat more slowly, regardless of the fact that this was a pot of cheap ramen. It doesn’t last, but those bites were delicious. 

* * *

3.

The human won't come close to him and neither will Mammon. Beel knows that Mammon somewhat blames him for the sprained wrist he is nursing—badly—but Beel focuses on minimizing his hunger. After cooking for him and bingeing TSL together, the human seemed okay with his presence in their room. That was gone after they realized they could have died. The ice cream he spilled prevented Mammon, the fastest of the brothers, from being able to grab them, and that brush with certain doom is showing its effects. They didn't confront him over it, they probably don't want any trouble or they're just that nice, but that isn't helping him or them at all. 

He's tried showing his concern with saying how humans are less physically capable and that they don't eat the right things. Mammon shut him down pretty quick with that comment about food. And Mammon understands why Beel is over. Mammon's not his older brother for nothing. 

He's been staying near them to hopefully build up resistance to their scent so he doesn't…lose control and eat them. Humans still smell tantalizing. Food, regardless of origin, has smelled delicious for the last thousands of years, but he's had the time to get accustomed to his surroundings and the food in them. The human is new, which means he _needs_ to get over the newest scent in the House of Lamentation. Once more, however, they're as far from him as they can be while remaining on the bed. They even refuse his offering of pizza slices, even though they know he doesn't share with his brothers. 

In short: he's back at square one. 

He'll eat Mammon's pizza then. After all, he's trying to make-up with them, not hurt them further, intentionally or not. Besides, they will probably share their slices with Mammon. Those two practically share a room. Traces of Mammon are everywhere—the phone charger, the extra toothbrush in the bathroom, one pair of his prized sunglasses placed neatly at their bedside table. Nothing of Beel's or of anyone else's.

And Mammon's room has their stuff—little creatures folded from paper and doodles from when they're bored in class, pictures of Mammon and his human from photo booths, little trinkets they get from feeding Mammon's crows. Mammon's room is theirs and their room is Mammon's. 

It sort of hurts. His brother has no qualms about devouring their personal space and time. And they do the same with Mammon as well. Even now, as they sit with Mammon trying to bandage their wrist, they have their other hand patting his hair. 

He's hungry in a place besides his stomach again—the ache in his chest returns whenever he sees the human having fun with Mammon. Maybe there is something in the kitchen that can help with this feeling. Finding something to eat will also serve as a distraction from his stomach. Two bats with one stone. 

Back to the bandage. He can't help but be critical—if Mammon leaves the wrapping like that, it'll be loose. But he also noticed that the human's—their _guest's_ breath shuddered slightly at the sound of his voice. Their guest is uncomfortable around him. And that won't do, as Lucifer often tells them. 

He excuses himself, saying he wants something like soda from the fridge. Their guest has a puzzled look on their face. It soon disappears but Beel doesn't mind. 

Better puzzlement than gratitude that he's leaving. Maybe he'll bring something up to share with their guest and Mammon.

Their guest. No eating. No eating their guest. The thought of eating the human brings a churn to his stomach. 

* * *

4.

He's done it again. This time, he really, really did it. And now the kitchen and their guest's room is ruined. He let his hunger and emotions get the best of him and he screwed up. He hasn't built up a full tolerance to his new, temporary roommate yet. Their scent is still hard to ignore, even without the scent of apprehension permeating from it. His void of a stomach is going to torment him. Lucifer probably knew too, that he's trying to build up a tolerance. This opportunity was one that was handed to them on a silver platter.

Lucifer and Mammon are pretty nosy despite seeing so uncaring.

"Take the bed on the left," he calls, as they ponder his and Belphie's bed. Taking the couch is a safer bet. Having his roommate take his bed to mask their scent is a better bet. He won't lose to his stomach again. Even if the smell of snacks wafts through the room as they bring in a bag full of their personal belongings.

They ask about how Belphie is in the human world and he jumps at the opportunity to speak to them about Belphie. He says way more than what he planned to say, actually. The thought of Belphie helps with ignoring the very tasty smell coming from the bed. 

During his account of Belphie's situation, their mouth tightens at hearing how Belphie was forced to leave. With every passing word, their face warps into the most interesting faces—raised eyebrows and wide eyes for curiosity, small nods with their mouth flattened into a line, a cute wondering face with their mouth skewed to one side. 

Oh, and before he forgets and lands them in danger, he tells them to never mention Belphie in front of Lucifer. Knowing his now-roommate, _something_ is going to happen if he isn't clear with that. Levi, for example, is still in shock about how he was outsmarted by "a weak, tiny, short-lived human." Beel wouldn't be surprised if Levi is planning something. Anyway—

They voice their want to know more about Belphie. 

What can he say about Belphie? Certainly not that Belphie hates humans. And they already know all about his stomach. Well. Maybe tell them a bit about how Beel and Belphie don't share the same looks, and that they used to have a sister...

They want to know more about Lilith. Words fail him at that, his mind tiptoeing the line between telling them and not telling them. This is Mammon's human that's in front of him, who's happily given Mammon kindness and affection. Of course, that was after they became comfortable with Mammon, but the point is that they've been kind and considerate once they've opened up. Is he close enough with them that they'll respect his wishes? He sort of doubts that. And now that they're also showing curiosity, it reminds him of Lilith more than ever. Surely, they won't force him…?

The subject is dropped without a fuss. The gratitude in his chest dampens the nibbling of hunger in his stomach. How odd. Humans have always been little creatures who poked their noses into danger. Those that survived were hailed as heroes. Those that failed or fled were shunned for not being able to bring stories, treasures, tales of glory, back. Kindness did nothing to save Lilith—why would the human be kind? Yet, the human _is_ kind. They don't seem kind at first, yes, but neither were he and his brothers. 

It actually unsettles him, how this human doesn't bat an eye over the Devildom's happenings. They dropped the subject so easily. They've adapted quite quickly, much more quickly than expected. Making a pact with Mammon and now with Levi, two of the seven rulers of the Devildom—why?

A tilted face pops into his vision. Those lips move and the question posed shoots through the haze of their scent. Right. They aren't food. It's easier to remember that now. Maybe Lucifer's gamble is working.

"Sure," he finds himself saying. He picks himself up and waits at the door, "The portrait hall has a picture of him."

When they arrive, his roommate's eyes set in a way that can only be seen as a grim acceptance. He wavers between asking them why that is so; does he want to know what crazy scheme this human will concoct? Does he want to be glossed over as Belphie becomes a subject of interest in the human's mind? 

Sometimes touches his hand, jerking his attention away from the portrait of Belphie. 

Packets of some sort are placed into his hand. They smell amazing—chocolate, strawberry, sweet and sour, and even something salty. But where? Oh.

Those huge pockets—slightly misshapen and dotted with fraying thread—these sweets came from there. His roommate's hands dropped as soon as the weight of snacks was deposited and they're standing a healthy distance away from him now, but his shocked face is still pretty visible.

"Thank you, Beelzebub." They say, gracefully weaving his name into a little musical phrase, "for telling me. It's nice, having your questions answered."

Unsure of what to say except "you're welcome," he can't help but glance between them and the snacks in his hands. _Human_ snacks. They're going to be here for a year, with no scheduled visits to the human world, and they still gave him some of their snacks? He's smelled the stash before, saw it when Mammon dug through their belongings, but wasn't allowed to touch it. Mammon had scooped them up in his arms with warning tuts, even though Beel asked for the smallest taste.

And now those snacks are his!

They laugh, probably amused at how he's surprised and drooling at the same time. This one is even better than the one he heard in the kitchen, fluttering into his ears and repeating in his head. The sound curls warmly in his heart. 

So this was a laugh he caused, huh?

The wrappers crinkle in his hands as he shifts them to place in his own pockets. The human nods approvingly, before starting the walk back to his room. 

He can't take it, not when he's been given the opportunity to eat human food. They pause at the sound of the wrapper being opened, arms tucked to their sides to make them smaller, less obvious, and he apologizes. They glance back at him, at his mouth full of their snacks, and continue walking after closing their eyes and taking a deep breath.

Were his strides that big, to the point that he and the human are walking side-by-side? No, his legs are moving at his usual, easygoing pace as he eats. Them?

Their arms are tucked deep into those pockets, close to ripping the bottom. Hand-sewn pockets, especially human hand-sewn pockets, won't last long. Their breaths are drawn too slowly, too methodically to be natural. He slows down, to allow them a chance to create some distance from him. 

Their steps fall in with his instead. 

They note his tilted head and raised eyebrows, note the sounds of their steps on the carpet. And they look straight ahead. 

"I was and am still scared of you losing control," they grit out. "I don't think being eaten alive is a pleasant death. But I don't want to live in constant fear of you, either."

"Okay," he accepts; it stings, but he did say he couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't eat them in the beginning. After a brush with death-by-Levi, it's understandable. Since he doesn’t push, the human is less on-guard and their heart beats less quickly. By the time they leave the portrait hall, the human’s steps are more sure and more firmly placed on the ground.

Humans sure are amazing, walking so determinedly with the very thing they're afraid of. This is what Belphie saw in humans. He'd like to see it once more, too. 

The food in his pockets is like a payment of sorts, he realizes. The human already said the snacks were their thanks, but they also bought time for the human AND distracted him from eating the human. A nagging feeling tells him he should be insulted that the human thought they had to buy their safety by giving him food. He pushes that away; his own brothers made jokes about tossing food to distract him—the human here is just trying to survive.

Wow. The human is really trying hard to get through this. They deserve more credit than Beel initially realized. For that, Beel will eat this snack slowly enough to get a feel for its flavor.

It’s good.

Food tastes better when it's shared with family. He considers the bright packaging from the human world. It'd be nice to eat these with someone.

* * *

5.

"No. _I am not moving,"_ they snarl. He can hear their heart thumping so fast that _his_ _heart_ is matching its speed. Luke's fingers are even paler from how tightly they're gripping his—their—protector's clothes. Beelzebub wonders if Luke feels as useless as he does. The human can't cover his entire body with theirs, so they moved so that if Lucifer does lunge for Beel, he'll have to stab through their body first.

If Lucifer does that, they'll die. 

" _Or, do you wish to die here?"_ Distaste and hellfire radiate off every syllable, burning up Beel's body. Lucifer's wings buffet the air. From behind, Beel can only see their hair, smoke curling off the tips. The fallen Morningstar's heat is only amplified in this dayless world, where fire is a punishment, not the energy of life. The pressure Lucifer exerts would have scared off lesser demons by now. 

Lucifer burns, hot enough to scorch everything in his path, consequences for himself and the exchange program be damned. 

"I'll choose how I die, thanks." He can imagine the curl of their lips, challenging Lucifer. Levi texted him in a jubilant, disbelieving mishmash of exclamation marks and incoherent thoughts after having the human over for the first few times. He _loves_ having them over. It certainly was concerning to see the human and Levi sport the same serpentine grin. 

Beel is absolutely sure that Lucifer sees it too, how the human has become a constant in Mammon's, Levi's, and Beel's lives. And the human _flaunts_ it!

Insane. The human is insanely brave or insane. Mammon panics over their name, afraid that if he moves, Lucifer will move. 

"Stop it…!" They don't turn to face Beel, don't turn their head at Mammon's voice. Their name echoes in the tomb, like a cascade of chants for the dead. Funny, how the human could die in a tomb right here and now, in one of the closest things to a place of worship in the Devildom. But no names of gods are being uttered.

Lucifer wants them to pick Beel or Luke and he knows that makes them angry. Just earlier, they were forced between Lilith and Belphie. He could taste the discontent reverberating from their choice. They wanted to pick both. Just like Lilith would have. 

Luke squeaks as his hand is encased by the human's. The other finds its way to Beel's and squeezes. Tight. His hand isn't even encased in theirs but he too is surprised at the grip that holds his fingers. Humans, tiny and fragile, have such strong grips.If he tightens his grip, will they ever let go?

Luke whimpers their name as they say they're choosing both. They don't budge at all. Lucifer looks angry enough to dissect them alive, ears, eyes, mouth, nose and all. His wings are still, tensed, _ready to propel him forward—!_

No. Beel doesn't want that!

The weight on his hand moves to the air; they step back with all of their weight, still covering Luke's body and Beel's heart—arms spread like burnt, flightless wings—Mammon yells their name and runs mid-transformation.

He grabs Luke with one arm, knocked back by the weight of their body. His other hand can't reach them!

No! 

———

~~_5.5._ ~~

He calls their name, low and soft. The stash of food in here overpowers their scent. He's limited his eating until absolutely necessary, to stretch how long he can be in here.

Their scent is still one of the best he's smelled, but he's content to just enjoy it. No eating. No eating at all. 

They groan as they shift, and Beel hopes that they'll actually wake up this time. He's been sitting at the floor for who knows how long—Mammon and Levi have both dropped in multiple times, each with snacks and medical supplies. His brothers are trying hard for him and he really appreciates that. Mammon's card can't handle how much he eats. Levi can't handle not being the first one to see them awake. But they're trying. 

"Come back to me…won't you?"

Those eyes flutter at his voice, and they shift, blinking at the room. Their eyes won't be aggravated, he and Belphie chose the best lights to suit their needs when given the chance, and he made doubly sure the lights wouldn't be a bother. Mammon's been taking courses on human first aid and reassured Beel that disorientation is normal. 

The dam breaks when he says he's glad they're alive. He reminds them, gently, that humans are fragile. A slow "hhh" escapes into the air and he can't help but chuckle as well. Tired of hearing that, huh...

"Yeah, I know." And now he's rambling about how Lucifer was mad enough to pop all of his veins and how Lord Diavolo stepped in and how the night could've ended with a dead human instead of them here, in his bed. Alive. With him. Breathing. 

He also needs to send Lord Diavolo his thanks. When he voices that they have to do that, they flop their wrist like it's nothing. 

He never thought he'd be so glad to hear his full name pass from their lips. 

Is he hurt? No, of course not, and he says as much. This human should be worrying about themself, since they almost _died._ Shielding a demon and angel, no less. He's never heard of that and he wants that to be a tale this human alone can attest to.

Amazing. "You're really amazing. And crazy," he adds. "Oh...not in a bad way! I'm sorry, for putting you through that…"

His roommate—no, they're practically family at this point, even if they don't see him as family—puts a hand to their lips. 

"Enough of that, Beelzebub. No need to apologize."

The attempt at being stern fails, miserably. Humans heal so _slowly_ and it's difficult to hear or see the steel behind that tired voice. 

But they called his name again, at least.

He wishes he was "Beel" to them, not just Beelzebub, but that will have to wait. 

He's made up his mind. 

"I'll make a pact with you."

* * *

+1

Last night in his room, huh. No matter how much he stares at the glowing stickers on the ceiling, he can't nod off. Having fun with his elder brothers even as they mooched off his night with the newest addition to his family tends to do that. Aside from how Mammon was admonished for being rude and how he and Levi were admonished for being mean, they had sheathed the sharpness of their tongue. A welcome change, that was. Go out again, they should. 

Eating with family really makes food taste better. They seemed to enjoy trying the things he ordered for himself. Mammon and Levi were pretty incensed when they allowed him to stick some sweets into their mouth. It was all very stupid; but fun. 

Then they got home. The way they ducked behind him, Mammon, and Levi was not lost on Lucifer. Beel, for his part, stayed beside them until Lucifer was out of sight. Once he and his newest sibling reached the corner, he closed the gap and held out an arm. 

They whispered a thanks to him, hand hesitantly curled around his hand instead. They were unsteady, due to Lucifer instead of him, for once. It almost made him hunger for a little vengeance. At Lucifer, for widening the gap between them and the demon brothers. At least Beel tried to make amends.

He's still trying. He's gained respect for them a long time ago and he trusts them not to abuse the pact. 

The shaking of their legs makes his appetite wither into a ball.

They're safe in his room. He can guarantee that. The room is filled with slow, calm breaths. He tries to match his with theirs. Even that can't help him sleep.

He can't. He needs to get the images of Lilith and Belphie falling out of his head. He feels like he owes it to them as well, having scared them awake after the confrontation with Lucifer. He's the tallest and most muscular out of his siblings—he was surprised when they just jolted up rather than screamed from such a loud thud. 

He didn't say it was because he dreamt crying out their name as they fell to the floor of the tomb as ashes. He didn't say it was because he saw their ashes coating both Luke and his body. He didn't say it ended with Mammon turning his speed against Lucifer. No, their recovery was more important than something that didn't happen.

He really needs to talk to them, asleep or not.

He can't keep the fondness of his voice from seeping into his words when he tells them that they and Lilith would have picked both Beel and Belphie. 

He can't keep his lips from trembling as he speaks about Lilith and Belphie disappearing. 

The final damning act: he asks to hold—

A hand touches his face, thumbing away the water pooling at his eyes.

The human fully opens their eyes, sleepy, but focused on him. 

"Demons shed tears huh...I wonder if a human wiping them away provides any comfort…"

The sound of the "t" drags out in a sigh and Beel prepares to get up. He shouldn't have asked. He's overstepping his boundaries. He's going to go back to the sofa and he says as much.

His hand is grasped, pulled toward the bed.

One sleep-clouded eye looks expectantly at him.

"Beelzebub. I apologize for giving you a misleading response. Come here."

They scoot back to allow him more room, never releasing his hand. He can't, not when they're not fully awake.

"I...I can't. Thank you for holding my hand." He should stay by the bedside, nothing more.

"Beel."

It's his name. Not his full name. 

"It's okay," they say, giving another insistent tug. "I can practically feel your emotions from the pact mark. I'm awake and of clear mind. I'm here and I want to help, Beel."

His name again. He…can't argue, now that they've played the "call Beelzebub using his nickname" card. 

“Besides, surviving a life-threatening experience together makes us more than just strangers, yes? It’s okay.”

He eases his body onto bed amid their satisfied hums, trying not to jostle them. Their bodies are now two islands connected by their hands in a sea of bed. Asmo would shriek and preen over having the human in his bed. He turns away from them, ignoring the numbing of his hand reached behind him. 

He ponders their remark over the pact mark. They can feel his emotions? He opens his mouth to question that, but they shift their pillow over his, so that their head is directly above his. His arm is moved, over his side, into a more comfortable position. The human's hand intertwines his once more, so he lays with the warmth of their arm over his side. 

"Let me know if you want me to give you some space," they breathe into his ear. Deliberately, a hand strokes his hair once, twice, before stilling.

He shuts his mouth. This is all he could have asked for and more.

"Thanks."

"Thank you too, Beel…"

He fights down a laugh that rumbles from his stomach. He could cry, and laugh, and he still wouldn't be able to describe that sunburst of happiness in his heart. He feels like he's in the sky, freely diving and laughing as Levi panicked each time he dove close to the ground. Levi always brought him his favorite candies after he injured himself from flying accidents. They would share them. 

He wants to share those human world snacks with the person that gave them to him. 

———

_~~+1.5~~_

"Ah, so you two are okay after all."

That's...Mammon's voice. 

A hand tousles his hair. It's warm and reminds him of flights in the sky back when his wings weren't fully developed yet, wrapped in Mammon's arms. 

"You remember when I was taking stock of the human's belongings?"

Yes, he does; it's still amusing that Mammon routinely checks their belongings to restock paper, replace old clothes, and other items when the human wasn't looking. His brother is so afraid of being found out, it's stupid. The human probably knows, since Mammon isn't exactly subtle when telling them to stay in the common room or at RAD.

"Hey, you laugh but you don't realize the human asked me to help them get a mini-fridge in their room. Y'know why?"

Nope. He's hungry. 

"It's for you, dummy. Aren't you lucky, having a stash of food maintained by the human just for _you."_

Oh. Okay. 

Wait, what? 

"Ahahaha! Your face! It's as vivid as your hair, Beel! Aaaand, sent! Now we both have pictures of each other's stupid faces!"

Oh. If the earth could eat him up instead of the other way around, that'd be great. 

The human groans, trying to bury their face into his neck, and he blushes harder. 

"Ah, good morning...!" Mammon says their name the loudest, happily bouncing their body off the bed with the force of their weight. 

"Morning, Mammon. You were supposed to keep that a secret, you know." the vibrations of their voice tickle his neck. 

"Good morning, sorry if we woke you up," Beel says. They finally wake up at the sound of Beel's voice, yawning and patting Mammon's head.

"Morning, Beel," they say, swiping at their eyes. Mammon sneaks another picture at Beel's blush before dragging the human away from him, cawing at how he's not allowed to be so close.

This is all so very bizarre, but that's what makes the human so amazing. No wonder Lilith loved humans so much.

They said his name. It wasn't a fluke. They really did comfort him last night. 

He's really happy. 

He's definitely going to their room to eat with them later. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This was written as practice for using they/them pronouns without (hopefully) ruining the flow the story. My friends convinced me to try the game, so I did. So, here it is. Beel is an interesting character: he's one of the characters whose concern for the exchange student is more apparent. But he also could have eaten them right from the get-go. I wanted to explore that; hence this fic.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading! Feel free to comment, if you wish. Or, point out mistakes. Thanks for stopping by :>
> 
> Edit 30/12/2020: After an additional couple rounds of revision, I updated this entire oneshot. I hope you like the changes!


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